Left Behind [Discontinued]

4 - Used to Party

Same day from Normani's point of view.

------

It was far too early in the morning for Normani to be having an existential crisis. Usually she saved those for after twelve pm but here she was at ten am being quietly distressed.

She was sitting in her manager's chair, watching the playback video of her newest music video that they shot that morning.

And she just didn't care. She didn't even feel that she could at this point.

She was oddly torpid lately, an adjective that was never associated with her. To be mentally or physically inactive, lethargic even. That was her and she didn't like it one bit – but she also didn't care to fix it. It was a weird feeling to not care about something when she should.

It's not like she had nothing to do. She was beginning to reach the height of her career. She stayed busy constantly and consistently.

She put out songs a couple of times a month, whether it was from the album or just for fun. She was a heavily featured and sought out artist.

She was critically acclaimed. The fans, the sales, the charts, and she was only two years in.

And she didn't give a fuck about any of it.

She felt unfulfilled, like none of that shit mattered. And in hindsight it really doesn't. Even as she watched her and the two featured artists mimic to a song that everyone loves, she just wasn't feeling it.

Well, when one says "everyone loves," it's meant that the radios loved it, the fans loved it, the features loved it but that was where it ended.

It didn't mean anything to her, it meant next to nothing. It was a fun song to sing, but a song highlighting her sort of fuckboi – for lack of a better term – lifestyle did not make her happy. And she was reaching that point where things had to matter to her in order for her to be happy.

She was twenty five and the only single one out of her friends. Hell, one of them was even trying for a baby with her wife. She was the only one without something that made her proud and she didn't know how to get out of that, out of this funk.

And again, it was far too early in the day to have an existential crisis. Regardless of the loudness around her – from rappers flirting with the female models to the distinct sound of approaching footsteps – Normani stayed rooted in "her" chair, rooted in her thoughts.

She hadn't even realized that she was so obviously frowning at the world until the person to her left told her.

"Mani? What are you frowning so deeply at? Also, side note, why are you sitting in my chair?"

It took her a moment to realize that someone had approached her. She turned towards the owner of the slightly raspy voice. Her frown only lessening slightly when she realizes that it belonged to her manager.

"What? Nothing, I was just lost in my head I guess," she replied, completely ignoring the latter question.

The standing woman narrowed her eyes slightly at her friend, thick brows furrowed in concern.

"You know, you've been like this for the last couple of weeks," she paused for a beat. While taking in the look on Normani's face, she moved her hand over to remove a dyed white wisp of hair away from her friend's face.